Horrors abounded in every passageway as each turn could bring a vision of a poor woman running from her screaming plague-infested son or a bloated corpse of a rich man whose mouth lolled open, showing gaps where someone had pried out a few golden teeth. She remained for some seconds crouching at the fender, poker in hand. He drove her home that night, kissing her again and again at stoplights. It was so hopeless to put it to them. I am not boring you, am I?” She raised her eyes to his and smiled into his face. Spurling bit her lips to conceal her mirth.
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